Crashed Into Dust
by profoundlycan
Summary: Delusion was a far better island to abandon yourself on than crashing ashore to a reality that you didn't want to acknowledge. An alternate ending to WDMYK.


**Title**: Crashed Into Dust

**Disclaimer**: Nothing's mine, so don't sue. Also, specific lines of dialogue used were first said in the episodes "Departure," "Control," and "Who Died and Made You King?". I am borrowing these from the writers, so if they feel the need to power trip then they can deal with the continuity issues.

**Rating**: K+

**Summary**: Delusion was a far better island to abandon yourself on than crashing ashore to a reality that you didn't want to acknowledge. An alternate ending to WDMYK.

* * *

Jesse sat nervously at a restaurant outside of Roswell, drumming his fingers impatiently and looking at his watch every few minutes. Though he knew what he was doing was a coward's way out, he couldn't handle the situation at hand. After all the things he waved off and turned the other cheek to, he mentally kicked himself for not having asked the first time everything materialized before his eyes. He wished he had expected it coming, but how could you expect something as bizarre as your own wife and her brothers being aliens? There is no preparation for that, or a sedative.

He had no idea what he thought of his wife anymore. He was questioning everything: The feelings he felt for her the first time he laid eyes on her, the emotions he experienced on their wedding day, and even the interstellar sex that had driven him to every end of the Earth. But the one thing that he had yet to come-to-terms was if he loved her—really loved her.

He loved her human side, not the alien.

He hated to admit it, but he wished he could rid her of her extraterrestrial origins and pretend that everything was _normal_ again. Or at least be naive to the goings-on around him. Delusion was a far better island to abandon yourself on than crashing ashore to a reality that you didn't want to acknowledge.

Snapping from his reverie, he gazed up to see Isabel maneuvering between tables. Being a gentleman, he stood and greeted her.

"Thanks for meeting me." They sat.

She smiled briefly. "I'm glad you called," she paused to take a menu from the waiter that had appeared, "Thank you." She turned to Jesse, "I-I brought your sweatshirt. The gray one? You left it on the couch. I washed it."

He reached across and took the sweatshirt from her and dropped it next to his seat. He thanked her and cleared his throat. "Look, I've made a decision—

Isabel cut in, "Oh, please! Don't do this here, Jesse. Not in public."

Her mind reeled and her stomach churned uncontrollably. He was going to leave her, and she knew it. There was no happiness or a beautiful house with a white picket fence. All there was, was hurt and the breeze whistling through the cracks of their broken relationship. She had hoped to come here and fix things, but their marriage was shattered, crashed into dust, and there was no way to fix it.

Jesse continued, "I'm sorry, Isabel, but I can't be married to this situation—

"You aren't 'married to this situation'. You're married to me," she corrected.

"But that's the problem! You're a part of this thing!" he whispered vehemently, making sure no others heard. "I want normal. I don't want to be married to your extraterrestrial side. I want to be married to Isabel, not the facade!"

Reality smacked Isabel in the face. No matter what, Jesse was not going to accept her... The real her.

With all the strength she could muster, Isabel spoke, "Then you can leave. I'm not holding you back any longer and I'm sorry I ever brought you into this."

Every word that escaped her lips grew in conviction, but remained shaky. Tears had begun to well in her eyes, and every fiber of her being was telling her to do this, to let him go. It was the right thing to do.

Standing up, tears flowing down her flushed cheeks, she slowly twisted her wedding ring off her finger and laid it in front of Jesse. He stared at her, baffled, as she came around and crouched before him.

"Jesse, I _am_ Isabel. There's nothing I can do to rid myself of my alien origins, and I don't know if I would. It's a part of me that may be a pain in my ass, but it's part of the reason why I am who I am." She stood from her kneeled position and kissed him lightly on the lips.

Taking a deep, shuddering breath, she concluded, "Goodbye, Jesse. I hope you find a _normal_ person to be with, so you can have a _normal_ life, without lies and deception," and she walked.

* * *

"I had a feeling I'd be back, but not this soon." Alex sat on the bed and watched Isabel color code her closet.

She didn't speak, but continued to hang jeans by texture and darkness of denim, not willing to turn to her hallucination.

"Isabel, you brought me here for a reason. Come on, tell Alex what's on your mind."

Isabel turned and sat beside him, exhaling loudly.

"Why did you tell him to go? I thought you _loved_ him," he questioned, though somewhat cynically.

"I thought I did, too. I had an epiphany, I guess... I realized that he wasn't right for me; that he wasn't what I wanted. I don't know even know what I want anymore," she rambled. "After all these months of hiding who I was, all the time spent trying to be normal... It just all fell apart. I fell apart. I just couldn't do it anymore!"

Angry tears blurred her vision and her resolve broke. She retreated to Alex, sobbing into his chest. Once again, she was using her manifestation of him as her scapegoat.

She moved away from him and wiped her face using her sleeves. She stood up and sat on her window sill, staring out. There, she went on:

"God, why me? Every relationship I've had has fallen apart in one way or another. I am the biggest loser known to man..."

"Isabel, if I have to, I will drill it into your head that that's just not true." Alex crossed his arms. "The way you berate yourself like this isn't healthy."

Isabel shook her head. "I wished I had listened to everyone: Max, Michael, my mother... Especially my mother. God, I remember exactly what she said to me. 'If you rush into this, you're gonna wake up someday, and you are gonna be a bitter, live-at-home, twenty-year-old divorcee.' No, that didn't happen. I'm an angry, live-at-home, nineteen-year-old who has no idea what she wants."

Alex squeezed her shoulders.

"I don't even know what in the hell to tell my mom. I suddenly come back home, no ring on my finger, and husband gone and she hasn't even asked me what happened."

"Maybe she's giving you some space, waiting for you to come to her?" Alex suggested.

"Maybe," Isabel said quietly. "She's put up with so much. My dad's crazy investigation, all the crap Max has pulled, and me getting married... How has she not gone insane from all this? I am so selfish! Max was right, my mom was right..."

"Just stop, Iz. It'll be okay."

"How do you know? How can you even stand to look at me? I've completely soiled your memory!" She gazed up at him, her bottom lip trembling.

"Isabel, no matter how much anyone wants to deny it, you're _human._ The actions you do, the decisions you make, the emotions you feel—they are all human. No one side is more important than the other."


End file.
